Liberty
by thegraduate
Summary: Winding up in New London CT, US Marine Lance Corporal Paige McCullers wants nothing more than to live out her days in solitude. When a tragic accident thrusts her in to the world of the beguiling Cardiothoracic Attending, Emily Fields, solitude is the last thing on her mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: New to the Paily and PLL universe (circa. February 2017) I have to say you guys are pretty awesome. I loved the show but I have to say this - sorry Emison fans - that ending was a complete betrayal of the characters Emily Fields and Paige McCullers.**

 **There are so many great stories on here, some finished and some abandoned. I would encourage you all to keep writing, keep Paily alive, and look to give them the ending the deserved but were so cruelly robbed of.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Pretty Little Liars**

 **Rating: M for future chapters**

 **I hope you enjoy Liberty.**

* * *

 _"Mayday, mayday, mayday._ _This is the Liberty Bell. 27° 27' 47.2096 North, 83° 7' 21.2109 West... We are flooding, we are taking on water…can you hear me?_ _Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the Liberty Bell...Paige, look out!"_

She shot up in bed fighting for air. Chocking as the oxygen began to fill her lungs, she wretched forward and grasped furiously at her chest. Pulling at the sweat-soaked vest that clung to her body like a second skin she fought to break free from the sodden bed sheets tangled around her limbs. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed she rubbed the tears furiously from her eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the light that was making its way over the horizon and in through the curtains.

Stretching to open up her chest she takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders, loosening the muscles straining in her back. Closing her eyes she sits up straight and rests her palms on her knees, beginning the all too familiar ritual of reminding her body how to breathe, in….and out. In…...and out. In….and out; focusing on the feeling of the solid ground beneath her feet - forcing her body to slow down, to remember where she was.

Coming back to her surroundings she quickly becomes aware of another presence in the room; nails and paws scratching lightly across the hard wood floor, making their way towards her. Opening her eyes to see her 2yr old Alsatian, Jack, looking at her with a lob-sided grin, she scratches his head and moves to stand watching him as he dances around her feet, "I'm OK boy."

Stripping out of her wet clothes she grabs some sweats and a clean t-shirt from the drawer before heading into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Jack, her ever-present shadow following closely at her heels.

Sliding the balcony door of her Connecticut waterfront home open she steps out into the cool, crisp air of the morning, wrapped in a blanket and grasping the steaming cup of black coffee to her like her life depends on it. Running down on to the beach, Jack jumps in to the surf, barking at the waves as the roll on to the sand. Pulling up a chair she watches the sunrise, smiling at Jack as he runs back up the steps to her side, sitting patiently until she leans across and runs a hand across his head and scratches behind his ears.

Taking a deep breath she glances back in to the house and looks at 3 boxes stacked by the front door. She hadn't realised how little she had kept in storage, how little she actually owned. But in all honesty, what did she actually need? Nothing. She didn't need nor did she want, anything.

She had just over 2hrs before she had to head to her meeting. Throwing on her trainers and a beanie and calling out for Jack she began her run along the Greenway trail. With the sun now over the horizon she could feel the warmth on her back. Stripping off her jumper and tying it around her waist, the cold air hits her skin and surges her forward. When she reaches the lighthouse she begins to feel the familiar burning sensation in her leg. She hasn't quite recovered yet – can still feel the ache deep in the tissue of her right thigh – but she would get there. All she needed was time.

Back at the house she pulls open the garage door to see the tattered bag waiting for her. Wrapping her hands she begins to go to work; circling the bag throwing off light punches - she had excellent technique. But so she should - she was a machine - a well trained, well oiled, machine. Stepping up the pace, a succession of powerful right hooks met with creaking leather; it took everything she had to give as she extended through her powerful legs and obliterated her imaginary opponent time and time again.

Pushing herself away from the bag, she looks up before jumping and grabbing the bar above her head. Glancing across at her watch she has 15 minutes before she needs to hit the shower. Crossing her feet at her ankles and taking a deep breath, she hoists herself up before lowering herself back down. Breathe, up. Exhale, down. Breathe, up. Exhale, down. The sweat runs furiously down her body to the floor.

After a hot shower, the sting of overused muscles began to subside. She has 30 minutes to get to her meeting. Looking in the mirror she traces the jagged scar that marred the otherwise perfect, creamy white skin of her right thigh. Her body was a map of just how deadly and fearless she'd had to be over the years - from the car wreck she'd been in at 12 years old that fractured every bone in her left arm and cracked 2 ribs, to the scars she'd accumulated through the 4 years in Afgan...the list went on.

She didn't have time for this. Looking to the side of the mirror she had two options: her service uniform or civvies. It was difficult to know what to wear - on the one hand, Sergeant Major Wilden had called in a pretty big favour to get her this meeting. She wanted to honour him and the efforts he had made to get her to this moment. On the other hand, that uniform had never felt more foreign to her. Where once it had signified a new life, a family, belonging…now it symbolised pain and regret.

Settling on civvies, she tugged the black leather jacket over her plain white t-shirt before pushing her way out of the house. Striding around to the back yard, where Jack was waiting patiently, she pulled the tarp from her ride - her means of freedom - a black, Ducati Streetfighter 848. Swinging her leg over putting the key in the ignition she felt the beast purr like a kitten beneath her. Looking back she called out to Jack, " _I won't be long"_ before kicking off and roaring out on the main road. Opening up the throttle, she sped up Ocean Avenue towards her destination.

* * *

A loud and authoritative knock shook him out of his reverie, "Yes!"

The door pushed open to reveal a young and handsome officer stood with a concerned and inquisitive expression on his face, "you asked to see me Commander."

"Yes Ezra, please, close the door."

After a beat, Ezra entered the room and closed the door behind him. Making his way in front of the imposing figure behind the desk, Ezra stood to attention and saluted the highly decorated and distinguished US Coast Guard's Command Master Chief, Wayne Fields.

"At ease Ezra. Have a seat."

Ezra sat down and in the same chair for what must have been the millionth time in the 12 years he had known this man. Every time he was in this office he was hit with the overwhelming respect and reverence he had for the man sat in front of him, the man who had single handed given him his career. This whole office was a living, breathing, testament to the man Ezra Fitz had looked up to most of his life. Surrounding them were walls of commendations and memories; cadets who had achieved the impossible, miraculous and inexplicable saves, pictures of him in the White House shaking the hand of the then presidents, Clinton, Bush and Obama. He remembered being in this office and trying desperately to stifle a laugh as Commander Master Chief Wayne Fields and refused to entertain a visit from the newly elected President Trump. And there, close to him on his desk, where pictures of his family.

He could see the Commander was deliberating something. Leaning back in his chair, Wayne looked across to the window in time to see the sky darken and thunderclouds roll overhead. His fingers tapped on the thick folder in front of him. He was waiting for something. Looking to the clock on the wall he watched as the hour hand ticked over. She had 2 minutes. Taking a deep breath, he focused his eyes on Ezra, "I have a decision to make, and for the first time in what I would consider a long time, I don't know the right course of action."

Ezra was curious. He had only ever known Wayne Fields to question his own judgement once - just once - in his entire career. Leaning forward and looking at the folder he cleared his throat, "what do we have?"

Outside, a loud screech of tyres breaking could be heard across the academy grounds. Killing the engine, she leapt off the bike and took off running. Taking the stairs two at a time she lunged through the front doors of the building.

Wayne Fields opened the folder. Lifting the first few pages his eyes skimmed the information in front of him, trying desperately to find the answers he had missed the first time he read her file. And the 7 times that followed that, "US Marine Lance Corporal Paige McCullers, 29 years old. Born to Nick and Elaine McCullers, raised in Key West, Florida. Parents were killed in a boating accident in 2005 along with a family friend. Paige the only survivor. No siblings. "

Paige bounded along the corridor; her heart feeling like it was about to explode out of her chest. She felt thoroughly disheveled, could feel the sweat running down her back. _Damn it, there goes the option to remove my jacket._

Ezra shifted a little in his seat, causing Wayne to pause but not look up as he took a beat and continued through Paige's file "…All star swim champ at Stanford, she could've gone pro but was kicked out at the end of her freshman year for drunk and disorderly behaviour. Went to live with her uncle, John McCullers, in Bristol CT. Within a year she was and enlisted in the Marine Corps. Served two tours in Afghanistan until she pulled from active duty in 2014 and then…" Wayne looks up at Ezra, who has his fingers resting against his lips in anticipation of what's to follow.

"Sir?"

"And then nothing," Wayne sits back in his seat, interlocking his fingers before resting them against his chest, "the next two years are redacted until September 2016, when Sergeant Major Darren Wilden assigns her to Operation Enduring Freedom…for the past 6 months, Paige as been part of a combined joint task force combating militant Islamism and Piracy in the Horn of Africa."

Wayne stands up from his chair and walks to the window and looks out on the academy grounds, watching the cadets in the distance run their drills. A crackle in the sky has him turning around and leaning back against the wall, looking to Ezra.

Ezra stands and takes the three paces required to at his Commander's side. Wayne takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose before being interrupted by the telephone on his desk ringing. Striding back to his desk Wayne picks up the receiver, "Yes…OK, thank you."

Placing the receiver back down and turning back to Ezra, Wayne once again takes his seat.

Ezra knows this man better than he knows his own father - he already knows what he wants to do. Problem is, he also knows why he doesn't want to do it. Turning to look out the same window Ezra's attention is pulled by the black Ducati parked idly next to his Land Rover. He can feel a change coming, "Sir, if I can speak freely?"

Wayne gestures with his hands to do so.

"Why now?"

"Wilden," was all Wayne would offer up.

"Sir?"

"We…we grew up together – he was, is, one of the very best men I have ever had the privilege of knowing and serving alongside. Let's just say, he called in a favour and leave it at that."

"So, McCullers is the favour?"

Wayne looked down at the open file in front of him and brought it to a close, "something like that."

It wasn't a satisfactory answer but Ezra guessed that was all he was going to get, for the time being. He watched as Wayne clenched and unclenched his fists several times before once again picking up the telephone.

Sat, sticking to the chair in the waiting room of CMC Wayne Fields office, Paige began to wonder what was taking so long. Wayne Fields was keeping her waiting. Paige knew this tactic all too well - designed to throw new recruits off their game, make them nervous, and allow the self-doubt to creep in. But this wasn't her first rodeo or even her second, and she sure as shit wasn't some rookie cadet.

"Excuse me," Paige looked over and in to the kind eyes of the woman who had been keeping her company, for all intents and purposes for the past 10 minutes, "he will see you now."

Lifting her fist to knock, Paige steadied herself and took a long, slow breath before her fist met wood in three successive knocks. A loud voice, beckoning her in from the other side, had her twisting the handle and pushing the door open. Looking to the two men stood to attention in front of her, Paige stepped in to the room and closed the door behind her.

"Lance Corporal Paige McCullers?"

"Yes Sir."

"I am Command Master Chief Wayne Fields and this is Master Chief Petty Officer Ezra Fitz. Won't you sit down."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I couldn't leave it hanging without introducing you to Emily Fields, so I here's hoping you enjoy chapter 2.**

"Oh my god, will this day never end." Hanna Rivers threw herself across the desk at the MRI station. She had been waiting for 40 minutes for the currently MIA Travis Hobbs (just one of the collectively useless batch of interns at Yale New Haven Hospital) to collect Mrs Kennedy and take her back to her room. Standing up and looking back down the empty corridors she could not believe the gall of this kid, "He had better be dead or dying when he turns up. Like, I want to see actual blood."

Emily couldn't help but laugh at the dramatics coming from her friend. Peering up and over her glasses she gave Hanna a sympathetic _'there there'_ smile before picking up one of the iPads from its dock, scrolling across and making adjustments to charts as she went, "Just page him again. I'm sure Travis will be back any minute to take Mrs Kennedy back to…" Emily's ministrations on the iPad paused and she looked down at her friend, "Errrr Han, Mrs Kenney is supposed to be in 305 for an ultrasound on her kidneys, not waiting for an MRI on her ankle." Hanna stood to attention and snatched the iPad from Emily's grasp in utter disbelief.

A loud and elongated groan came from Hanna, followed by an utterance of several profanities that had Emily not known her would've made her blush!

"I'm actually going to kill him!" she huffed out as she ran her fingers back through her hair, throwing her hands up in annoyance, "How much longer?"

Emily looked at her wristwatch before smiling back at her, "20 minutes. 20 minutes, until Spencer's here - we'll go pick up Aria and…" a loud beeping from her pager stopping her from finishing that sentence, "Han, Mrs Kennedy is going to have to wait – incoming into the ER, road accident…." Emily was already running, half way down the corridor as Hanna scrambled to her feet and reached for the phone.

The rain hadn't let up as Paige trudged down the steps of the Academy. Her bike was soaking wet through from the torrential downpour New London was currently experiencing. _For fucks sake_. It was the perfect end to an already shitty afternoon and had the sobriety chip not dangled mockingly from her keychain today would've been a perfect excuse for a drink. Bringing her motorbike to life she could feel sense eyes on her and she couldn't stop herself from glaring back at what she now knew to be CMC Wayne Fields office. She held her stare - not seeing but feeling their eyes on her, judging her. Revving the engine several times in frustration, she flipped the visor down on her helmet, and sped off in to the storm.

She wouldn't normally have taken interstate 95 but the pull to open up her bike and forget everything about meeting Command Master Chief Wayne Fields and his lackey, Ezra Fitz, was just too tempting. Thinking back to the thick file on his desk - the one he kept tapping with his fingers - he had pulled her life apart like a dog would a rag doll. He had been relentless and after 2hours she'd had enough. She didn't need this, not that badly.

Up ahead, she could see traffic was slowing. _Rush hour, perfect._ She knew in that moment she had been selfish – Jack would be home waiting for her – and although he had the run of the place, hell, he had the run of half the beach – she didn't like leaving him for long periods of time. Deciding to get off at the next exit and head back she began to slowly weave her way through the cars, speeding up to take advantage of a gap that had opened up ahead. It was then that she felt it, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end sending a shiver down her spine. Looking around furiously there was no one near her – traffic was practically at a standstill. Her attention turned to the northbound highway just in time to see a tanker truck plough over the divider, knocking into the side of a tractor trailer and splitting it wide open, before striking several other cars and tipping on its side.

Screams erupted immediately and people pooled out of their cars to run and help. Paige flipped the visor up on her helmet to take in the site before her - 3 cars were completely totaled - there was no way anyone would live through that.

Sensing movement next to her she snapped out of her reverie and turned to the guy who was talking loudly on his phone, "….I don't know honey, he must've lost control or something…" He stopped when he felt strong arms around him.

"Hang up, call 911," Paige barked the order as she moved to the trunk of his car, "is this your car. Can you pop the trunk."

"yeah it's my car but hey, what are you doing?" The guy ran around the trunk to just as Paige opened it.

Finding a high-vis vest, flash light and first aid kit, Paige grabbed what she could and slammed down the trunk. She started to walk to the scene of the accident as the man ran alongside her, "what's your name?"

"Paul."

"Paul, I'm Paige. I'm going to gonna go help those people in the cars but need your help first. You see that tanker?"

Paul followed Paige's outstretched arm to where the tanker was laying on its side, a car trapped between it and the barrier, "yeah, of course I see it – it just totaled all those cars and…."

"…yeah, that's a fuel truck, and if that goes everyone here is fucked, do you understand?"

Mouth agape, Paul nodded his head at Paige.

"Paul – call 911 and keep everybody back – at least 100 feet, you got it!"

"Yeah, yeah…got it." Paul watched as Paige ran to the first car. She was there barely seconds before she moved on to the next.

 _Dead. Fuck!_ Paige had made her way to the first two cars only to discover the drivers had been killed on impact. The rain was torrential now and she could barely see back to where Paul was stood – she hoped he had dialled 911 – not sure what they would find when they arrived.

Taking off towards the tractor trailer that had been cloven in two, she made her way to the drivers side. Shining her torch inside, she heaved a sigh of relief – the driver much to her delight was alive and wake, "hey, can you hear me? Hey." Paige banged on the door.

The driver blinked a few times and rolled his head. Paige could see he'd suffered a nasty blow to the head. He was patting the seat next to him, looking for something.

"Hey, sir? Sir, can you hear me?" Paige banged again. She pulled furiously at the door, feeling the strain in her shoulders before it finally gave way and opened so she could check on the driver.

Rolling his head around to look at Paige who was already pulling a bandage from the first aid kit to wrap around his head, "Sir, can you tell me your name?"

"Yeah, errr….Dav..David."

"David, my name is Paige. Can you tell me where you're hurt?"

"My dog - have you, have you seen my dog?"

Paige looked across to where David had been grabbing furiously at the passenger seat. There was no sign of a dog. Looking out in to rain, she could see the other half of the trailer and it's contents strewn across the highway. If the dog had been in there when the tanker hit it wasn't likely to still be alive.

Turning her attention back to David, Paige continued to wrap the wound on his head, "I haven't seen your dog but I'll look for him OK, what's his name?" Securing the bandage on his head Paige took her time in assessing the rest of David injuries, starting at his neck and making her way down his arms, chest, pelvis and legs.

"h-her name is, ahhh!" David flinched when Paige applied over his pelvis, "Cleo. Her name is Cleo."

It was then that Paige could hear them, the sirens. Help was coming.

"OK David do you hear that – help is coming." David nodded as Paige searched around the first aid kit for something big enough to use to secure David's pelvis. Coming up empty she looked across back in to the trailer at the clothes strewn across the floor. Reaching around she grabbed one of the shirts pulling it in to the front, "David, it looks like you've fractured your pelvis - I'm going to have to wrap it…"Paige put her hands on either side of David's head, looking him square in the eye as she nodded at him, hoping that he understood. _This was going to hurt._

With his pelvis secure and his breathing more even Paige looked around at the scene. There was a flurry activity behind her and she knew it would be only minutes now until the EMTs reached them.

A dog barking pulled Paige's attention to tanker. Bending down to David she felt again for his pulse – not as strong as she would have liked it but she had to check on the other drivers, "David, I've got some good news. The EMTs are on their way and unless there's another crazy bitch on this highway, your dog is doing just fine."

David chocked out a laugh and winced at the pain in his lower back, "thank God."

"Yep, she's barking up a real storm out there," Paige smiled as she covered David with a coat to keep him warm. "I need to go check on the tanker and that other car, you be alright?"

David nodded through gritted teeth. Paige squeezed his should in reassurance before making her way back around the trailer. Leaping over debris she made her way to over to Cleo, who was going crazy at the tanker and when Paige made it to her she could see why. _Damn._ The tanker had flipped a small Volvo on to its side and pinned it against the barrier; the windshield was completely shattered making it near impossible to see inside.

"h-h-hello? Is somebody there?

Paige heard the chocked plea coming from a female voice inside the car. Rushing forward to the windscreen she shone her light inside. There, unconscious in the passenger seat was a small, fragile looking woman, covered in glass. Her short, dark hair was plastered to her face and neck by the blood tricking from an open head wound. She looked pale.

"w-w-who's out there? Can you help us?"

"Yeah, I'm here. The rescue services are real close now. What's your name?"

"Spencer," the woman managed to cough out.

Paige shone her light and looked directly at Spencer – she could see she had trouble breathing; the air bag hadn't opened. _Blunt force trauma_ \- _collapsed lung, broken ribs, internal bleeding,_ Paige was running down the list in her head.

Looking around her Paige tried to figure out the best way to get to the two women trapped in the car. She didn't want to move them but if she could get in to the car and make light work for the EMTs then that had to be her focus.

"Spencer, my name's Paige. I want you to keep talking to me OK. I need you to stay awake."

Spencer could feel pressure and unbearable shooting pains in her chest, it was all she could do not to pass out. Her leg was trapped, she couldn't seem to free her foot from beneath the accelerator and each time she tried she was in unbearable pain. Looking across to Aria, she hadn't moved or responded to Spencer since she came too. Tears filled her eyes at the desperation of the situation.

A loud banging on the car brought her back to the present and she could hear someone shouting to her, "Spencer? Spencer? Can you hear me?"

Spencer took a deep breath and shouted back, "yes, yes I can hear you. Please, you have to get us out."

Paige was now clinging furiously to the side of car. On the climb up she had slipped and fallen straight into the barrier, smacking her head off the concrete and landing on her injured leg. Pushing herself off the ground, she'd manager to climb back up and cleared her head enough to shout for Spencer. Being on the other side of the car she could now see the fuel pouring furiously on to the tarmac. They didn't have long.

In the distance she could see colour array of flashing lights from the various rescue services. The Police were there, pushing everybody back, Paul's line had held.

With renewed vigour Paige pushed forwards. Standing on top of the car, she navigated her way across to grab hold of the driver's side door. Looking through the window at Spencer she smiled as she put her hand up to the glass. Spencer reached up and aligned their fingers – it was a small gesture but the silent promise Paige was making meant everything in that moment. _I won't leave you._

Grabbing the handle, Paige heaved the car door open; rain pouring thick and fast in to the car. Bending down to Spencer, she put a reassuring hand on her arm, "Hi," Paige smiled, "How are you doing?"

"I'v-Ive been better." Spencer smiled weakly; her breathing was worsening by the minute. Paige looked over to the crowd and waved the flashlight in the direction of the EMTs. She could see David was being carefully pulled from his car, Cleo firmly by his side. Breathing a sigh of relief they had got to him, She continued to wave the flashlight until more people rushed towards her.

Taking the opportunity to look in to the tanker, Paige shone a light at the driver. _Broken neck, he's gone._

Turning back to Spencer she started to assess how best to get her out. Bending down, Paige shone her flashlight on Spencer's legs and in that moment she thanked God for shock and adrenalin. Spencer's tibia had come clean through her right leg and her ankle, which was wedged firmly behind the accelerator pedal, looked to be dislocated. _She is not going to thank me for this._

"P-P-Paige," Spencer weakly called out, causing Paige to lift her head and place her ear next to Spencer's mouth, "You have to get Aria out, she's…she's pregnant. W-we were going out tonight…to celebrate with our friends and…I-I-cant b-b-be the one to tell…" Spencer fell silent as her eyes started to roll back in her head.

Paige looked down to the fragile and unmoving woman in the passenger side – there was no way she could get to her without getting Spencer out, and there was no way she could get Spencer out without untangling that leg.

"Hey! You OK up there?"

Paige turned to see several EMTs and fire marshals staring up at her, "yeah. I've got two women trapped in here. Both mid to late twenties - one is in and out of consciousness; looks like she's sustained blunt force trauma to the head and chest, a proximal tibia break to the right leg. The other has been unconscious for 15 minutes, lacerations to the arms, chest and face…and she's pregnant."

"Are you a doctor?" One of the EMTs pointed up to the cut on Paige's head.

"No! Listen, it's way too slippy up here – I can get them out but I'll need you to take them from me once I do."

"Miss, I don't think…"

"We don't have time to argue…" Paige hated pulling this card but fuck it, they were out of time, "I'm a US Marine, I'm trained for this – and that tanker," Paige pointed behind her, "is leaking fuel - so unless you have a better suggestion we need to get these women out, NOW!"

The group moved towards the bottom of the car on the driver's side. Happy once they were in position Paige bent back down towards Spencer. Unhooking her seatbelt, Paige gently lifted her arm away from her body, freeing her completely. She didn't want her to wake for this but she had no choice, she had to keep Spencer awake.

"Spencer?"

Spencer mumbled something incoherent.

"Spencer if you can hear me, I'm going to try and move you now….I'm sorry about this."

Before Spencer knew what was happening, Paige had reached down and secured the protruding tibia between her hands. With a vice like grip she twisted Spencer's leg, pulling her her broken ankle free from behind the pedal.

Spencer shot forward and let out the most horrifying, blood curdling scream imaginable. She was grasping at Paige, trying to take hold of anything to manage the unbelievable pain raging through her body.

"Spencer. I've got you. Listen, to me…" Spencer was erratic, "Spencer listen to me," Paige took a firm hold of Spencer's arms and held her tight against her, "The EMTs are here, they're just below us – waiting for you and for Aria. We're so close now – I know it hurts like hell, and I'm sorry but I'm going to have to hurt you again to get you out."

Spencer started to sob and became a dead weight in Paige's arms, shaking her head, "Just hold on to me." Paige put Spencer's arm around her shoulders, "On the count of 3 – 1…2…3" Spencer screamed, loud sobs fell from her lips as Paige pulled her free from wreckage. Careful not to crush her ribs, Paige rested Spencer back against her body, wrapping her arms around her waist, leaning them both against the side of the tanker, shuffling them around slowly so before lowering her to safety.

"You got her?" Paige called out.

"Yeah, we got her. You can let go." Paige felt Spencer slip from her arms and into the waiting arms of the EMTs. Within seconds she was on a gurney with an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. As she watched them rush Spencer towards the first ambulance, Paige could've sworn she saw Spencer reach out for her.

Turning her attention back to Aria, Paige sat on the edge of the driver's side and carefully lowered herself in to the car. Bracing herself, she slipped in to the back seat behind Aria so she could assess her injuries. Aria had now been unconscious for 20 minutes. Feeling for a pulse, Paige located the familiar throb beneath her fingers. It was weak, but it was there. Picking up the flashlight, Paige scanned the length of Aria's body – aside from some very deep lacerations Paige couldn't see any other external injuries, but she still didn't like the thought of moving her. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the first aid kit she'd haphazardly thrown in to the car. Reaching for a sterile dressing, Paige managed to stem the bleeding coming from the deep laceration on Aria's head.

"Hey, are you OK in there?"

Paige could hear the EMTs calling out to her again. Sighing in frustration she looked back up to where the drivers side door stood open and to attention. The rain was beginning to subside, and Paige knew it was now or never, "I'm not going to bring her up. If I move her she could go in to shock. Stand back from the windscreen."

Paige looked through the shattered glass to see lights shining directly into her eyes, blinding her. They knew what she was going to do. Pushing herself forwards, Paige braced herself against the passenger and drivers side seats before bringing her feet up to her chest and kicking out with everything she had. Several pairs of hands were suddenly on her pulling her free from the car.

Shaking off the hands as the tried to push her towards a waiting ambulance, Paige looked back to the car, "I'm fine, help her…" Paige leant forward and rested her hands on her knees, taking a few deep breaths. Looking back to the wrecked car she could now see Fire Marshall assessing how best to extract Aria given her position and head wound. EMTs had given her O2 and were still assessing her as Paige was drawn back to her side,"...let's clear her airway and get a neck brace in here. Aria? Aria can you hear me...pupil on the left is fixed and dilated, she's bradycardic and hypertensive."

"How's she doing?"

"Definite TBI. We need to stabilise her before we can move her. How long has she been unconscious?"

Paige looked at her wrist watch, "28 minutes."

The EMT looked up at Paige and took in her haggard appearance, "you alright?"

Paige looked down at her as she pointed up to the cut on her head, "yeah, I'm fine. Listen, I know you don't want to move her but," Paige got out, slightly out of breath, "that tanker could go at any moment and she's...she's pregnant. I made a promise to get both these women out so - if I brace Aria along her sternum and spine we can bring her together – but we have to move her, now."

Leaning forward, Paige aligned her right arm down Aria's sternum, spreading her fingers along the neck brace as her other arm one arm moved to secure Aria's spine, pulling in at the elbows in a vice-like grip. When the EMT nodded, the worked in unison to bring Aria forward and out of the wreckage. Working together, the team moved Aria to the gurney is one swift motion, securing just as another ambulance pulled up alongside them. Once inside and secure, Paige breathed a sigh of relief and watched as it drove off in to the night.

Feeling a hand come to rest on her shoulder a friendly voice stirred her from her reverie, "Paige?" Paige turned to look at the officer in blue smiling down at her, "Garrett." Paige returned the smile before being pulled into the fiercest hug she'd had in a long time, "Garrett, breathing…becoming an issue."

Paige laughed as Garrett pulled back from her, looking her over and wincing at the nasty cut on her head, "Jesus, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I slipped is all..." Paige turned and surveyed the damage around her, finally taking stock of the events of the past 30 minutes, "3 people dead, including the driver, 3 more are on their way to the hospital."

"And that's where you are headed right now, come on." Garrett went to lead Paige in the direction of his squad car but he felt her pull from his grasp.

"I'm fine honestly. I've got my bike here and Jack is waiting for me..."

"…Paige," Garrett interrupted her, sighing he reached up to run touch the cut that ran above her eye and back in to her hair line, making Paige step back and wince, "You're hurt, you're bleeding - you're going to the hospital. I'll have Jenna swing by and pick up Jack, the guys will take your bike back to the station."

Looking at the stern expressions on Officer Garrett Reynolds face, Paige knew he wouldn't be relenting any time soon. "OK fine, but I don't want Jason anywhere near my bike after last time."

"You'll get no arguments from me, there" Garrett held up his hands in mock surrender as they made their way towards his car.

Ezra walked in to the fort that was New London's coast guard base. The fury of the summer storm had spent, and now the evening sun was trying desperately to break through. After the day he'd had, he couldn't wait to sink a few with the boys before heading home to Aria. Smiling at the thought, he walked the short distance in to the rec room, where a couple of guys were shooting pool and watching the news.

Seeing no sign of Toby or Caleb, he sunk down on to one of the bar stools and turned his attention to the TV. _Another accident on the interstate,_ he shook his head as felt someone pounce on him from behind.

"Hey man, you ready to head out?" Toby appeared beside him and dealt a firm pat to Ezra's shoulder, "Caleb's just finishing up, you wanna beer?"

"Yeah, sure. Have you seen this?" Ezra pointed up at the TV as Toby moved around the bar to grab a couple of Miller's from the fridge. Handing it across to his friend and clinking bottles, their attention turned back to the TV, "it looks pretty bad down there."

The broadcast detailed the accident, that three people were dead at the scene, and 3 more had been rushed to hospital in, two stable, one critical.

"I know it's crazy – a tanker went straight through the barrier and took out like, 5 cars."

"Hey guys, you ready?" Caleb walked in to the room, fresh from his shower and eager to get started on the nights drinking activities.

"Yeah, sure let's…" Suddenly there was a smash of glass, both Toby and Caleb turning to look at Ezra, he was a white as sheet.

"Ezra?"

"Hey man, what's going on?"

"Toby…is that….that looks an awful lot like Spencer's car." Ezra pointed to the TV screen where an aerial view on the crash site was being broadcast. The three of them turned and watched as two women hauled themselves out of a white Volvo, before one was rushed away by paramedics.

"No, that's not…that's not Spencer she's with Aria and the girls." Toby took his phone from his pocket and dialled Spencer's number, "try Aria." He nudged at Ezra to do the same.

"Hello…? Hello….?"

Toby stopped pacing. _Why were there sirens on end of Spencer's phone?_ "Who is this?"

"Are you a relative? Hello…? Sir, are you a relative?"

Caleb and Ezra watched as Toby's face changed from panicked to outright broken. As the phone came down from his head and hung loosely in his hand, all he could think about, all he could see, was the wrecked white Volvo he had seen on the TV – how it had been crushed and pinned by the tanker. _Spencer._

Suddenly Caleb was beside him taking the phone from Toby's hand, "Hello? Yes? Yes I'm a relative – I'm her husband, could you….where?"

Caleb looked across to Ezra; he was running out of the door to his car. Looking back to Toby, Caleb started to pull him after Ezra, "we gotta go, now!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** **Thank you for the amazing feedback and for those of you who took the time to read my Paily musings.**

 **Having read so many great fics on this forum, coupled with my own expectation as a fan, I know people will/must be eager for our lovers to meet. I want it to be as organic as possible and let the relationship evolve naturally. It's going to be a slow burn but stick with it if you can.**

 **Paige has, albeit unwittingly, thrust herself into Emily's world and I am interested to explore how that not only changes them as individuals but also the effect that has on the dynamic and relationships within the group.**

 **Enjoy chapter 3….**

Dr Emily Fields, Yale graduate and Cardiothoracic Attending, ran through the ER shouting for people to move out of her way before grabbing a gown and heading out to the ambulance bay.

Henry Nilsson, Head of Trauma Surgery, was already there with his team - waiting for the two ambulances to arrive. Nodding his head in greeting and to acknowledge her assistance, he went back to prepping his team of interns on what to expect.

Emily paid little attention as she pulled her hair back in to a tight ponytail, feeling Hanna come up behind her and pull her gown closed at the back. This was a dance the two of them knew well. Since their first day of residency, Emily knew that Hanna Rivers, née Marin, was going to be the worst kind of influence her, in the best possible way. A graduate of Dartmouth and second in her class, Hanna had followed her then boyfriend, now husband, out to Connecticut after he enrolled at the US Coast Guard Academy.

Hanna was on her way to becoming Chief Nursing Officer; already president of the hospital nursing staff, she had hospital execs eating out of her hand. Anyone who knew Hanna could see that the choice she made pull out of surgical residency in their 3rd year had been the right decision; her capacity for kindness and empathy meant she was destined for far greater things – she and her team of nurses were the backbone of this hospital, lest anyone forget it.

When Emily felt the strings on how gown pulled tight she turned and smiled at Hanna, motioning to her to spin around whilst she returned the favour just as the first ambulance hurtled around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of them. Running around to the side of the ambulance the team of surgeons and nurses stood back as the doors burst open; the first EMT jumped down the steps and reached back for the gurney, pulling the patient out and in to the light, "Spencer Cavanaugh, 30 year old female, with blunt force trauma to the head and chest. Possible concussion. Right tibia break and dislocation at the joint…"

Emily's world stopped. _Spencer._ She watched as Hanna and the team of surgeons disappeared back in to the hospital along with the gurney carrying her best friend. As the doors slammed shut on the ambulance behind her, Emily became painfully aware she was not where she needed to be. Taking a step forward, the ER doors whooshed open as she ran back through the ER and in to the room Spencer was being worked on.

"…pressure's 90 over 60…Spencer? Spencer can you hear me?" Nilsson was leaning over Spencer moving his finger and shining a light into her eyes, "…pupils reactive and responsive. Fields, you wanna get in here?" Nilsson shouted across to Emily jolting her to attention and forcing her to move around the bed to Spencer's side, pulling her stethoscope around her ears she listened to Spencer's breathing.

 _Decreased_ _breath sounds…Hemothorax,_ d _amn it._ Hannah handed her a chest x-ray film.

 **"** She's got multiple rib fractures on the right, midline shift…let's get set up for an ultrasound. I'm gonna need a chest tube, 10-cc syringe and 25-gauge needle."

Looking back into the room, Hanna was already moving towards her with what she needed. Nurses and surgeons were all working hard to help Spencer – cutting open the pantsuit she wore to gain access to her legs and… _her leg!_ Emily could see the right tibia protruding through the skin – she would need months of rehabilitation.

"...let's cross match for 10-units and where the hell is ortho? Have you paged for a Neuro consult?" Nilsson barked at his interns.

Hanna moved to cut the shirt from Spencer's chest, prepping her for the chest tube; moving her right arm above her head, Hanna restrained Spencer and nodded at Emily. For the first time since she came in to the ER, Emily looked in to Spencer's eyes, "Spence, I know it hurts – I need to put in a chest tube. Hanna's right here OK, we got you."

Emily pushed the needle through Spencer's pleural cavity, aspirating the blood that had pooled into her chest. Handing the syringe to a nurse, she looked down at Spencer before making the incision to open up her chest. Blood rushed to the floor, pooling at Emily's feet, as she forced the the catheter through muscle, bone and skin before it reached it's destination, causing Spencer to cry out in pain. Hanna held her tight as blood and air rushed into catheter, allowing her lung to inflate for the first time in what felt like hours. Hannah held her the whole time, talking her through it and stroking her hair until she began to relax, watching as Emily tied- off and secured the tube.

"Can I get in here?" Neuro had arrived!

Emily took a step back and looked to the clock on the wall – 6.37pm. They should be at The Deck now – drinking cocktails, talking about their day; Hanna would be complaining about Travis for the hundredth time and…they would be laughing, happy.

"Pupils are equal and reactive, no focal deficits…Spencer, can you squeeze my hands? Squeeze….Good, very good...No obvious signs of traumatic brain injury. Alright, page me if you see any change and take for a CT scan as soon as she's stable. Fields, you got this?"

Emily nodded as the neuro surgeon left the room. She could see him making his way to the next room where Nilsson was busy working on the second crash victim that had come in. Grasping Spencer's hand, her heart dropped at the terrified look on her friends face, "Han, page ortho and call the OR – I want a room prepped and ready by the time we get up there."

Spencer began to shake her head and pull at her mask. Hanna's hands were on her instantly, trying to soothe her, but Spencer used every bit of fight she had left until Emily relented, "E-Em."

"Sshhh, it's OK Spencer. We're going to take you for a CT - make sure that beautiful brain of yours is as it should be - and then we're going to the OR..."

Spencer's shook her head as she struggled to find her words. When tears fell down the side of her face she closed her eyes and took several shaky breathes, trying to steady herself and find the strength to say what she needed to - they had to know. Opening her eyes, she looked up at her friends and chocked out one word, "Aria."

Hanna and Emily looked at each other, both sets of eyes flying to the door as they heard Dr Amanda Redmond, the Attending Paediatric Surgeon on call, shout for people to hold the elevator as a team ran up the corridor, pushing the fragile and broken looking Aria Montgomery along with them.

Hanna flew out the door, barrelling in to Nilsson, "who was that? THE SECOND VICTIM, WHO WAS IT?"

Nilsson was taken aback at being accosted and shouted at by Hanna Rivers, but the panic on her face told him now was not the time for a battle of the sexes, "Aria Montgomery."

Hanna looked back in to Spencer's room. Emily had to stay with Spencer – she was the best chance she had and Spencer needed Dr Fields right now, not her friend. No words passed between them – they didn't have to - they already knew what they had to do. Hannah took off running down the corridor at full pelt, pushing her way in to the stairwell, taking them two at a time. _Thank God for spin class._

Walking in to the ER, Paige and Garrett saw a hive of activity - doctors and nurses jumping from bed to bed treating minor injuries and ailments. She shouldn't be here, she didn't need to be here. Aside from the throbbing in her head and the deep bruising pain she felt in her leg, she was fine - nothing that a couple of Tylenol and an ice pack wouldn't fix.

A pretty blonde Doctor with large upturned eyes approached them; Garrett could feel Paige shift uncomfortably beside him, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah erm, I'm Officer Garret Reynolds - this is Paige McCullers. She was injured in the crash tonight on the interstate and I'd like for someone to check her out.." Garret noticed the Doctor was already doing just that and he couldn't help but feel embarrassed for his friend - _she always has this effect on the hot ones_ , "...please."

Turing her attention towards Paige and placing her hand gently over where she held the thick gauze to her head, she pulled it back to examine the wound, "that looks pretty deep, we'll get Plastics down to take a look at that."

"No, wait. I don't need to see a surgeon just...staple or glue me up, or whatever, and I'll be on my way."

Struggling to contain her laugh the pretty blonde Doctor stared up a Paige from her below thick lashes, "OK one, we don't use glue or staples or ' _whatever'_ unless we absolutely have to. Two, the way you're favouring your left side right now tells me that you have more than a head injury, and THREE," she elevated her voice when Paige opened her mouth to interrupt her, "…Dr Harper's workload is pretty light tonight so you're in luck." Pulling back the curtain to reveal an empty gurney she motioned for Paige to sit down, "let's get started, shall we."

Garrett coughed and turned his head but not before Paige saw him stifle a laugh. Raising his eyebrows and managing a well-timed wink when the Doctor's back was turned, he motioned for her to follow the her before walking in the direction of the waiting area, "I'm gonna go check in with dispatch, and see how Jenna's doing..."

Closing the curtain around them Paige suddenly felt claustrophobic. She hated hospitals.

"OK Paige, my name's…"

"…Dr Sarah Lawson,"

"How did you…"

Paige pointed down to the security pass peaking out of her lab coat, "Look Dr Lawson, I don't want to be rude – I really do appreciate the trouble…"

"…it's no trouble" Sarah reached around Paige to grab some gloves so she could begin her examination.

"…right…well, I'm fine, really. I can stay with my friend out there – I will have supervision for the next 24hrs and I will come back if I experience dizziness, nausea, fatigue…"

"Wow, you got it all figured out don't you. How lucky am I to have New London's resident superhero sitting in front of me," Sarah was mocking her - in playful manner - but mocking her all the same, "where's the bat mobile, parked out back?" She felt pretty please with her assessment of Paige - she'd been in her presence all of 5 minutes could tell Paige had no intention of being baby sat for the next 24hrs, the woman was too wired.

"Excuse me?"

"The crash – it's all over the news. I knew who you were the second you walked through the door. Although how you managed to walk through it instead of being carried in on a stretcher, amazes me."

"Shit!" Paige let out in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration.

Looking at the hopelessly bashful Paige McCullers, Dr Sarah Lawson couldn't help but admire her. She could see Paige was beyond exhausted; as she removed her leather jacket, Sarah saw only angry bruises and tight muscles. No doubt Paige was desperate for a long hot bath…anxiety was coming off her in waves. She wanted out and for whatever reason, against her better judgement, Sarah was going to make this go as quick and painless as possible for her.

"I'll tell you what - I'm going to page Dr Harper one more time. If he's not here by the time I finish my examination I will use ' _staples or glue, or whatever_ ' to patch you up and send you on your way. Deal?"

Paige knew she was being teased and she was far too tired to mind. There was something about Dr Sarah Lawson that put her at ease. Smiling back at her, Paige met the doctor's playful tone with one of her own - albeit slightly more pathetic in it's delivery, "Deal."

"Alright then. Strip."

Paige's eyes shot up and looked at Sarah who would have doubled over with laughter had Paige not looked like a deer caught in headlights. Disappearing behind the curtain and reappearing a moment later, she threw a fresh pair of scrubs on the bed next to Paige, "no offense, but you're soaking wet through and in order for me to exam you, I'm gonna need you to lose…" Sarah allowed herself a quick glance down Paige's body, "the rest of your ride or die outfit, OK."

Without giving Paige a chance to reply, Sarah disappeared around the other side of the curtain leaving Paige alone for the first time in several hours. Looking at the pale blue scrubs to the side of her she hopped off the bed, wincing at the throb in her right leg as her foot met with the floor. _God damn it._ Reaching for the bottom of her t-shirt Paige managed to hoist it up and over her head. Feeling a pull at her side, she looked down to see a dark, angry bruise forming across her ribs. Pressing lightly at the skin she was relieved that it was nothing more than that, a bruise. She'd taken a pretty nasty fall when she'd bounced off the car earlier and hit the concrete barrier.

Popping the button on her jeans, Paige was just reaching for the fly when the curtain opened and Sarah barged her way back in to the room, "Not quick enough huh – do you need more time – or perhaps some help?"

Paige looked up to see if the Doctor was teasing her again, but all she saw was the look of concern on Sarah's face, "no, thanks – I got it."

"Alright then. Oh and Dr Harper is on his way so, no glue for you."

Paige couldn't help but think this would be a running joke between the two of them, should they ever meet again. As Sarah began to fire off questions at Paige – date of birth, address, social security number… Paige reached down to try and pull the sodden, skinny blue jeans from her legs. Unable to get them much past mid-thigh, she leant back on the gurney in frustration.

Feeling Paige's eyes on her but knowing the woman was probably too stubborn to ask for help, she motioned for Paige to sit down so she could pull the offending item from her body. Sarah took in the site of Paige McCullers: battle hardened and bruised was how she would describe the beauty before her. And Paige was beautiful - her long lean muscles rippled as the chill of the air hit her damp skin; skin that told a story only few had survived to tell. The girl was a fighter, Sarah was certain of that.

Grabbing the scrub pants, Sarah made quick work of pulling them over Paige's feet and up to where the girl had successfully managed to push her jeans to, knowing that going any further was both inappropriate and unnecessary. Paige could handle pulling on own her pants. As she sat back on her stool, Sarah once again focused intently on Paige's chart, "Marine, huh?" When she got no response from Paige, she looked up and saw the nothing but the drained and exhausted woman who had walked in to her ER 40 minutes ago.

Moving to take the scrub top next to her on the bed, Paige went to put her arms through it before Sarah stopped her, "I'll do my exam first and then you can put this on, OK?" Smiling at Paige she pulled her stethoscope around and motioned for Paige to lean back in to her hand, "deep breath in for me….and out. Good. Again."

As Paige began to breathe in and out, Sarah could feel her start to relax beneath her fingers, "Alright, you can put your shirt on now," Pulling the the stethoscope from her ears she made some notes in Paige's chart. She checked her eyes, ears and throat, again making notes in her chart - not looking at Paige when she suddenly asked, "What does it mean, your tattoo?"

"Which one?"

Sarah looked up to see Paige pulling the top over her head, pulling her out to let it fall loosely below her shoulders before easing back to sit on the gurney. Paige had somehow switched to confident and cocky, meeting Sarah's grin with one of her own. Pointing her fingers towards Paige's left side she asked again, "that one. The one on your ribs."

Paige's mind flashed backed to being her being a 20yr old, Marine Corps grunt; serving her country, there had been no higher honour or privilege but now…"for me, it means commitment - to serve and protect something bigger than myself or any one person: The Eagle symbolises America, which we are dedicated to protecting. The Globe represents our presence around the world and the Anchor, symbolises our naval history."

Sarah sensed she had touched a nerve with Paige – she had just wanted to keep her talking, to get her to relax – but now she felt like she had crossed a line. A line she had no business being anywhere near in the first place.

With almost perfect timing the curtain swung open and what can only be described as the most perfect looking man in all existence, walked in. The cliché of tall, dark and handsome did nothing to describe this man; with the most piercing and hypnotic green eyes Paige had ever seen she wondered if there were a dry pair of panties for miles. Paige watched as Sarah took a step back, somehow making herself smaller in the room - was it because of her or Dr Harper? Something Dr Harper said caught her attention and in that moment he had progressed quickly from charming to asshole, "…women say they don't care, but they do. When I'm finished with you, you'll look fantastic. And when you look good, you play good, right Dr Lawson!" Mark turned and winked playfully at Sarah before turning back to Paige and her head injury.

Paige looked over just in time to Sarah roll her eyes behind his back. Mouthing ' _I'm sorry'_ in Paige's direction she was just about to speak up when all three of them were startled by the sound of shouting and hurried footsteps bounding along the corridor. Paige couldn't help but think she's heard one of the voices somewhere before.

"I'll be right back," Sarah smiled over to Paige as she excused herself from the cubicle, closing the curtain and leaving Paige alone with Dr McSleazey and the syringe full of Lidocaine he was preparing to inject in to her skull.

Sarah turned the corner to see Ezra, Toby and Caleb surrounding the nurse's station, shouting furiously at the interns cowering behind the desk.

"Ezra?" Sarah reached around for Ezra, pulling him round to face her.

"Sarah," Ezra gripped her shoulders almost painfully, "Where's Aria?"

"And Spencer?" Toby moved around from behind Ezra and into Sarah's personal space.

Motioning for the three of them to follow her they walked down the corridor and into a private room, away from prying eyes and terrified interns they had left in their wake. New London wasn't a small town but she knew the ripple effects of tonight's events would be felt in the community for weeks, possibly months, to come.

Looking at Toby and Ezra, both men were wound as tight as a steel spring – what they needed were words of comfort and encouragement but all Sarah could do was stick to the facts – having been with Paige for going on nearly an hour, that was all she knew, "Aria and Spencer are both still in surgery. Spencer's in pretty bad shape – her tibia in her right leg broke through the skin and her ankle is severely dislocated and..." looking to Toby she motioned for him to sit down, "Toby, the front airbag on the drivers side didn't deploy."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Spencer suffered blunt force trauma to her head and chest. It means Spencer's brain, lungs and ribs would have absorbed the impact of the crash."

"Oh God, I think I'm gonna be sick," Toby bent over and dry heaved on to the floor. Caleb rushed to the corner to get his friend a glass of water. Toby pinched the bridge of his nose trying to make sense of what was happening – trying to picture the accident. Spencer sat in the driver's seat, the tanker hitting the car from the side forcing it in to a spin before it flipped, and was pinned against the barrier, trapping her and Aria inside. He could see Spencer being thrown forward – her head and chest being forced forward and into the steering wheel with so much force that her ribs cracked and shifted. He should see the pain on her face – the fear of not being able to move or breathe.

When Sarah felt he was ready to hear more she continued, "When she was brought in to the ER, her lung had collapsed and her ribs had shifted…Emily put in a chest tube and she was stable when they took her up to the OR."

Toby let out a shuddering breath before looking back up at Sarah with tear filled eyes, "is she going to be OK?"

Placing her hands over Toby's she squeezed gently for him to look at her, "Outlook is good – Emily is working on her with ortho setting her leg. She'll need a lot physical therapy but she'll come through this."

"What about Aria?"

Sarah turned back to Ezra and exhaled a long, shaky breath, "Aria was unconscious from the moment tanker struck the car to her being taken up to theatre. Hanna is with her, Neuro and paediatrics are working to…Ezra?"

Sarah stopped talking the moment she saw Ezra's lose its colour. _Shit, he didn't know._ "Ezra I'm so sorry, I had no idea that..."

"No idea about what?" Caleb was growing angry, "would you stop talking in fucking riddles and just tell us, what is happening with Aria?"

"She's pregnant Caleb," Ezra chocked out before turning back to Sarah, "Right? She's…was, pregnant."

Walking to stand in front of Ezra, Sarah crossed her arms as if to protect herself from the pain emanating from the damaged man in front of her, "Yes Ezra, Aria's pregnant."

"I'm gonna try Hanna again..." Caleb was already on the phone as he excused himself from the room.

Sinking down to the floor in front of Toby, Ezra ran his hands ran furiously through his hair, grasping painfully at the long strands that passed through his fingers.

"Both of you need to try and stay calm. I know that's difficult but Spencer and Aria need you to stay strong for them – you don't get to fall apart right now, not until we know for sure what we're dealing with. Let me go find out if there's any updates. I'll be right back, OK."

Sarah exited as Caleb walked back in to the room, "her phone's going straight to voicemail."

Ezra looked up in to the blank faces of his friends, "That's what tonight was about. The last thing she said to me this morning was, _'go have fun with the guys but meet us at The Deck around 9…I've got a surprise for you…'_ she wanted you guys to be there. Wanted her family around her when…" Ezra broke and buried his head in his hand, his shoulders bouncing as he allowed himself a minute to cry and mourn the loss of a future they had been trying for, for so long.

Caleb was the first to move, sitting next to Ezra on the floor before Toby got up and followed suit. As friends, the three men were as close as brothers. Over the years they had fought, laughed, fallen down drunks, beaten and saved one another. They were the finest unit serving in US Coast Guard along the east coast, and tonight, they fought their toughest mission yet like they always did, together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Ask and you shall receive. This chapter is ALL about Ms. Fields.

Writers and readers alike, I am sure you either listen to or are inspired by certain songs as you write/read in order to get the creative juices flowing. So if you're at all interested, this chapter was written whilst listening to the acoustic version of 'Wires' by Athlete.

Thanks again for all the feedback and response to Liberty – I am really glad so many of you are enjoying it. A lot shorter than my other chapters but I hope you like it nonetheless. Here's chapter 4….

* * *

She felt cold. No, freezing. She could feel her muscles twitch and shake so hard that she thought her bones would snap in two. Awareness crept in. She could sense movement and muffled conversations. She could feel someone next to her clutching desperately at her hand, and then more movement – shadows and sounds disorientating her as struggled to open her eyes.

 _Toby. I don't see him - the one person who can comfort me and tell me what is going on – I can just feel his hand holding mine. Don't let go._

"Spencer? Baby, can you hear me? Emily, what's wrong with her?"

Moving forward like a guided missile, Emily moves to assess and take care of Spencer.

"What's wrong with her?" Toby chokes out, pushing against the nurse in trying to get back to Spencer's side.

Emily looks back at her friend before placing her hands on either side of Spencer's head, "she's fighting the intubation. This is normal Toby, it's a good sign - she's coming around." Turning her attention back to Spencer, Emily takes out her small, pocket flashlight and opens her eyes one at a time, checking for pupillary response, "Spencer? Spencer, can you hear me? It's Emily, Spencer. Can you open your eyes for me? …Let's run an ECG."

With no response from Spencer, Emily looks back at the monitors and takes out her stethoscope, listening to her breath sounds. Looking at the ECG being handed to her by one of her interns, Emily releases the breath she didn't realise she had been holding on to, "OK, let's get her on a Fentanyl drip and push 10ml of Propofol."

Stepping away from Spencer and focusing her attention on Toby, Emily reaches out and pulls him to her; finding comfort in each other in the now quiet stillness of Spencer's recovery room. After a few minutes, Toby steps away from Emily and moves to once again take up the seat beside Spencer – taking up her hand and covering it with his own. The low beeping of the monitors rouses him and he looks up to see the comforting, steady rhythm of Spencer's heartbeat.

"BP's 70/110…I've given her a sedative and some pain relief to let her rest a little while longer but, she's going to pull through Toby."

"Any news on Aria?" his asked, his voice teetering like a glass that might or might not tip and break.

Emily nodded unconsciously, "she's in recovery down the hall. Hanna and Ezra were with her; parents are driving down from Boston…Did you manage to get hold of Spencer's mom?"

Fresh tears stung Toby's eyes, "…Veronica said Peter's with Melissa at a conference in DC but that she'd take the next flight out and they'd follow in the morning." Catching sight of his watch he could hardly believe it, it was a little after 6am – 11hrs - he felt like he'd been sat in that chair a week.

Turning to leave the room and give Toby his privacy, Emily made her way down the hall of the ICU. Passing Aria's room, the scene inside was much the same as the one she had just walked away from – Ezra was lying tentatively on the enormous hospital bed that encompassed Aria. Holding Aria to him as though she might break and disappear, he was whispering to her what Emily guessed were words of comfort - willing her to come round so he could look at her. Look in to those beautiful, big green eyes and reassure her that she was perfect – that no matter the outcome he loved her.

They had saved the baby – a new life, no bigger than apple – had fought as hard as it's mother to survive. Emily knew she should go in - offer Ezra words of comfort and tell him that although the next – she looked at the clock on the wall - 18hrs were critical, Aria would pull through. But her feet kept moving forwards.

In truth, she wanted nothing more than to find an empty on-call room, put her head in a pillow and scream. This night had singularly been the worst night of her entire life, and it wasn't because of her friend's injuries or the fact she hadn't slept in over 36hrs. As injuries went, she had seen far worse; she'd lost count of the amount of hearts she had held in her hand. So when Spencer had crashed during surgery and Emily had to reach in to her chest cavity and pump her heart for her, that was OK – she had done that before. As an intern, then as a resident, and even now as an attending she had sat in the gallery of OR 1 and watched as Williamson in Neuro had navigated far more complex and demanding surgeries. So when Hanna had emerged from Aria's surgery and talked her through how he had successfully evacuated Aria's acute left-sided subdural hematoma, that was to be expected.

The most devastating news always comes in details: surgeons will describe the procedure and every life saving measure they had taken in order to get their patient to live - how both they and the patient had fought hard but in the end, it had not been enough. If half the families and loved ones they spoke to knew the first thing about anatomy, they would know that surgeons would practically butcher their patients as they worked to save a life. Emily had personally delivered such news many times. Too many times! She'd also delivered the agonising _'the next 24hrs will be critical'_ line to the desperate and pleading faces of countless loved ones over the years. So when she'd watched as Williamson described to Ezra the life-saving procedure he had performed on Aria, she knew what he was doing. Aria's odds were 50/50. The surgery had been a success and had the EMTs not got to her as quickly as had, and got her safely out of that car, they wouldn't even be having this conversation. Williamson was a God in the OR but there's only so much he could and should do before hurt turns to harm, and as Doctors that was the first oath they had taken – ' _Do No Harm_.' The silver lining, if you could call it that had come from Doctor Redmond – they're baby was fine – but its survival was now tied to its mothers.

No, Emily had treated hundreds of patients and seen them through far worse surgeries. None of those factors were the reason why this was the worst night of Emily Fields' life. She knew what it was but confronting it was not an option right now; knew that if she took a moment to reflect on last night's events then she would open herself up to it, let it creep in and suffocate her. Fear. And that was it, for the first time in professional career Emily Fields had felt afraid, and as a surgeon that was the one thing she could not afford to be. For now, she would tell herself that she were fine, she was overreacting.

She sunk down in to a chair at the nurse's station and pulled out her phone - 27 missed calls. The majority of them were from Toby, Ezra and Caleb, 3 from her parents, and 1 from Sarah. _Shit._ She had promised she would go down and assess her patient in the ER before being discharged. She was just about to dial Sarah's number when she looked again at her wristwatch - 06.21 – the request had been hours ago and Sarah was more than capable of assessing and discharging a patient. If not, she would have had more than 1 missed call. She promised herself to catch up with Sarah at a more reasonable hour.

Looking across the corridor to the on-call room, Emily knew she had a few more hours before Spencer would once again try and wake up, "hey Kevin, I'm gonna grab a couple of hours in the on-call room, wake me if there's any change in 403 or 405."

Her fresh and well-rested 2nd year intern looked giddy at the fact Emily had even known his name, as he smiled and nodded at her,"sure thing Dr Fields."

"Dr Fields, may I have a word?" Dr Harper fell in step beside her as Emily made her way down the corridor to the cupboard that was regarded as their on-call room. _Great._

"Just one?" Emily answered, exasperated.

Emily went to reach for the door but Dr Harpers' arm shot out, barring her entrance, "Dr Fields…"

"…that's two words Dr Harper," she shot out, irritated at the interruption. Too tired to cross her arms in support as she regarded the tower that was Dr Eric Harper stood in front of her. His otherwise perfect hair was pointed in every direction, a clear sign that it had been confined in a scrub cap for the past several hours. She raised her eyebrow as she regarded him, _speak then God damn it._

Leaning over her, Emily could see his chest through his v-neck scrubs and instinctively she reached out a hand to push him back from invading her space. She wasn't worried or intimidated by Eric. On any other day she enjoyed their casual banter teasing, and in the loosest sense of the word they regarded one another as friends. But not in this moment. She was tired, pissed-off, in need of a shower and in no way in the mood for his crass sexual innuendos.

"You know what, never mind, I'll catch you later." Eric flashed a brilliant smile at her before winking at her and making his way back towards the nurse's station, "ladies, who wants to volunteer to…"

Emily wasn't interested in hearing the rest of that sentence as she pushed open the door to the dark on-call. Emily knew better than to switch on the light in case she wasn't alone. An eerie quiet filled her ears. She was alone. Kicking off her shoes as she went, she vied straight for the bottom bunk, her body feeling incredibly heavy as she slipped beneath the sheets and fell back against the pillows. Although she was beyond exhausted, sleep didn't come easily – she hadn't expected it to. Emily didn't think she could sleep now if even she tried.

"Em? Is that you?" A harsh whisper filled the room

"Han?" Emily replied in an equally hushed tone.

"Yeah…are you alright? Who was that you were talking to outside?"

" _Ugh_ , Harper."

"God, what did he want? Did he finally make it back from Oz with a heart." Hanna quipped out.

Emily couldn't help but smile and relax a little, "I didn't wait around to find out. Where's Caleb?"

"He's up here with me, asleep. He starts his shift soon so I wanted him to try and get some rest."

"He's going in?"

"Yeah – with what's happened I think he wants to feel useful, you know."

"…..Yeah…I do."

"Em, are you OK?"

Knowing a lie would serve better than the truth, Emily closed her eyes and brought her hands up to rest on her head, letting out a long sigh in the process, "yeah Han, I'm fine. I'll be a lot better when the girls wake up."

"How's Spencer doing?"

Exasperated, Emily sat up and swung her legs over the bed – all this whispering was ridiculous and infuriating. If Caleb was really heading in to work a 12hr shift, he should be able to be allowed a bit of quiet. With everything that had happened tonight she as grateful at least one of their friends was getting some rest, "Hanna, you wanna go some coffee – let Caleb get some proper rest?"

"…OK, hold on."

Carefully extricating herself from Caleb, she lay his head gently down on to the pillow. A low snore came from his throat as he shifted around in his new position, reaching for Hanna. She watched him until she could once again hear the low dulcet sounds of his snores, and at that she climbed down from the bunk bed to the floor. Emily was doing up the tie on her scrub pants as Hanna put a finger to her lips and tiptoed towards the door. Stifling a laugh, Emily never failed to be surprised by Hanna's little nuances – 30 seconds ago she had instigated the loudest, whisper-athon in all history, and now here she was tiptoeing out of the door as if she were in a character in a Tom & Jerry cartoon.

Linking her arm through Emily's and resting her head on her friend's shoulder, the girls made their way to the attending's lounge in silence, unsure if they could trust themselves to voice what they actually were thinking. Professionally, they had both successfully performed and assisted on the surgeries of two critical trauma patients who had been bought in to the ER nearly 12hrs prior. They were extraordinary. But in this moment and to each other, the were just two ordinary women – the best of friends – both terrified that they were about to lose something they cherished most in this world.

They'd only managed a few hundred feet before a buzzing sound stirred them out of their reverie and Emily's hand shot straight into the pocket of her lab coat. Hanna's heart was beating like a jackhammer as she stood back and waited anxiously – waited to see if at any moment Emily would take off running in the direction of the ICU. Instead she watched as Emily took at step away from her, looking as though she might breakdown and cry as she motioned to answer the call.

Clutching the phone to her ear, Emily took a deep breath and willed herself to be strong, "Hi Daddy.'

She was rewarded with the welcome and calming voice of her father, "Emily, sweetheart, are you alright? We've been so worried."

Any falsehoods and kind lies she was about to tell her father quickly left her mind when she heard the concern ring out in his voice. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Hanna mouthing that she was heading back to the on-call room and to Caleb, but to call her if there was any change.

Nodding at Hanna but answering her father, Emily managed a convincing, "absolutely, Daddy. I'm fine."

"I wanted to head down and be there for you and Ezra but I thought it best to wait for an update. How are Aria and Spencer doing?"

"Both are stable for now, Aria is still in a critical condition," Emily responded with concerted effort in order to keep her voice from cracking. Feeling a sudden influx of tears well up in her eyes, she strode across the empty corridor and barrelled in to the nearest supply closet. Making her way to the back, she squatted down behind the racks so anyone coming in to the room wouldn't see her. She didn't want anyone to see that Dr Emily Fields was struggling to keep it together.

"It sounds like you need to talk," Wayne Fields stated in belief, his voice was calm and strong, but Emily could tell by his tone that his was extremely concerned for her…for Ezra and Toby…for Spencer and Aria.

Her life right now was an emotional sea of upheaval and the last thing she needed was CMC Wayne Fields compounding the situation. Emily loved her father. She really did. In many ways he was her rock, and the sound of his voice on the line had done much to reassure her, but if he came to the hospital now Emily knew the tough and hardened façade she'd held in place all night would break, leaving her vulnerable and exposed to the reality of the situation. Exerting all her determination, she fought to gain control of her emotions. Taking a few moments to carefully wipe the tears that had escaped down her face, she steadied her breathing, "you know me too well."

There was a short pause on the other end of the line, then after a beat her father's voice came back, "tell you what. How about I come and pick you up once your shift's over? We can talk or not talk…just, let me bring you home."

"That sounds great Dad, but I really don't know what time I'll get out of here. I haven't even looked at my schedule for today and…"

"…Emmy, it's fine. Whenever you're ready. Your mother and I are here for you, OK…call me if there's any change in Aria or Spencer's condition."

"I will, give Mom a kiss for me OK."

"I will. Rest when you can and I'll talk to you later. I love you Emmy."

"Love you too."

After she ended the call, Emily looked at her phone for a long time – part of her wanted to call him back and re-establish the connection. Long minutes passed as Emily fought with herself. Once again she felt tears slip down her cheeks, she wasn't really sure anymore why she was crying. She was such a mixture of conflicting emotions, each one of them vying for dominance, a constant assault on her wellbeing. One feeling she could not escape was how completely alone she felt.

The distinct buzzing of her phone was a slap back to reality, derailing her from the current emotional rollercoaster she was on. Shaking her head in defiance, she pushed herself up off the floor and made her way out of the supply closet, focused on what she needed to do. She was not an island, and she would not run and hide away from the people she loved and who needed her most. Emily had never run away from a fight, and in this moment all she needed, all she wanted, was to be with and find comfort in her friends.


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone,

I wanted to let you know that this is not me saying I am abandoning this story, but when I was thrashing out the it's premise and planned situations that would propel the narrative forwards - with Paige and the boys being in the US Coast Guard service - needles to say they were going to come up against some pretty extreme and challenging situations. The biggest of these I had planned to be a hurricane.

With everything that is happening at the moment in the US and Caribbean in the wake of hurricane Irma, and indeed all the tragedies around the world due to extreme weather situations, I do not feel comfortable "glamorising" a situation for the purpose of a story, esp. when I have no first hand experience nor suffered any loss from such an event. Therefore I ask you to bare with me whilst I navigate and plan a different direction for this fic.

Thanking you in advance for your patience.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you for your patience whilst I figured out a new direction for this story, and hopefully the longer update will more than make up for it.**

 **Those who are fans of Grey's Anatomy may spot a few one-liners in this chapter and I have tried to add in a few PLL one-liners from our fabulous 4 to keep them as true to the characters as possible. Again, I don't own anything to do with either PLL or Grey's Anatomy so no suing please.**

 **I hope you enjoy the update and thank you to everyone that has left feedback, liked, or is following Liberty. Any typos, I apologise - I've been looking at this for a while now and it's beginning to blur. Oh, and anyone who is currently writing a Paily fic - keep them updates coming, writers and readers really do appreciate the love for those two.**

* * *

Five days later, Paige found herself stood once again in the atrium of Yale's New Haven Hospital. Biting her lower lip she winced at the headache that hadn't left her alone since the night of the accident. After she had walked out of there in the early hours of last Saturday morning, she'd climbed in to the back of a waiting cab and allowed herself to pass out on the back seat as it made it's way an hour north towards Providence.

Having heard from Sarah that her heroics had been plastered all over the evening news, Paige knew it wouldn't be long before reporters came calling and as much as Garrett and Jenna had tried to persuade her otherwise she knew that staying in New London was not in her best interests. Her Uncle had sold his place in Bristol years before and moved to Rhode Island, where he now filled his days with building and restoring sailboats, fishing, and playing cards in the local tavern...if she was guaranteed a peaceful recovery anywhere, that was the place to be.

When she'd arrived at Wickford Cove Marina late on that Saturday morning and navigated her way across the slips and moorings of some of the most beautiful boats she had ever seen, she hadn't been able to deny the feelings it had stirred in her - the excitement, the thrill…the pain. When she'd finally stood in front of her Uncle's houseboat, the Anchor North, she couldn't help but remember the first time she had gone sailing with him as a kid-

 _'…now, your Dad will tell you that sailin' is all about God and the forces of nature. Others will tell ya it's all about science and math. But sailin' Paigey, sailin' is in our blood. We came from the sea – we are tied to it – and nothin' will ever beat that feelin' of the wind catchin' your sails as you break out into open water; your heart thumpin' in your chest, and when you take in your first breath of sharp salty air…ahhhh, it's paradise Paigey. There's nothing like it.'_

He had been right. There had been nothing like it. At first, Paige had enjoyed it with her Dad and her Uncle. Her mom hated the water but for the three of them there had been no better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than out on the wild open spaces of the Gulf of Mexico. Later on, as Paige had grown older, she had enjoyed the solitude and the calm of the Florida Straights. Time seemed to stand still out on the water - there were no one's expectations but her own, no one obsessing over PB's and stroke rate. Out on the water she had found a peace and a calmness she had never experienced before. But where there was poetry there had been moments of primal and unyielding power – the volatile and changing nature of the sea had taken far more from her than it had given.

John McCullers was cantankerous man to be sure but for few who knew him well, they could boast that they were the better for it. He'd lay claim that he only loved three things in his life: the sea, jazz, and depending on who was asking at the time, Paige. A Marine for 21 years, he'd retired to Florida to be closer to his brother Nick and his family. Three years before the accident he'd moved to Connecticut for work and Paige rarely saw him after that. In fact, the next time she saw him was when he was picking her up off the floor of a charmingly dilapidated dive bar somewhere in the San Francisco area.

Honestly, Paige didn't remember much about being kicked out of Stanford – truth be told she didn't remember much about the months before her suspension and eventual dismissal either. She'd scuppered the career she had fought and trained so hard for. It was hard to think of all the high school swim meets her parents had travelled to and attended; all the dorky banners her mom had made…she had been her biggest supporter. She had been the one who made her believe she could do and be anything. It was the life they had wanted so badly for her, and it was gone. Getting sober after that had been the easy part – it was living with the disappointment and the daily reminders that clean living brought with it that was a bitter pill to swallow.

John had taken her back to Bristol with him and for the longest time there had been nothing but anger and pain. She had screamed at him, hit him, trashed his house, stole his car – and he'd taken it – he'd let her pile all that hurt into him until there was nothing left. They never talked about what happened – he never asked about Stanford or the accident – he didn't have to. What good were the details anyway, the result was still the same. So they trained, and they fished, and they mended broken boats…and eventually, when storm subsided, and the clouds broke, Paige slowly came back to herself and the water.

On the day she'd left for Parris Island it had thrown Paige when her Uncle pulled her to one side and struggled to find the words. A voice thick with emotion and perhaps full of regret, it was one of the few times he had looked her in eye when he'd said, _"remember Paigey, you can't command the wind but you can control the direction it blows you. Hold steady, and you'll be just fine."_ And she had been.

Over the years their relationship had shifted – he had softened, she had hardened but they always seemed to meet somewhere in the middle, and this time had been no different. This time with her Uncle had been just what she'd needed and she felt genuinely well rested. She'd slept like the hadn't slept in years; there were no nightmares welcoming her in Providence, no demons chasing her in her dreams. Her conscience had sunk pleasantly in to oblivion. When she woke, there had been no pressing urge to leap from the bed and punish her body with a gruelling work out. There had been pain – her head and ribs ached and her leg burned but nothing she couldn't handle. When she wasn't sleeping or fishing, Paige had helped out at the boat yard and surprisingly, attended a few yoga classes, the last of which resulted in Paige leaving with the instructors' number. All in all, five days of no phones, no internet, no friends, no doctors, or reporters snooping around had left Paige in no doubt that starting over had been the right decision. That this peace, this simplicity, was what she craved most in the world. She just wasn't sure if Connecticut was the right place to start over, but Paige hadn't quit anything but drink since her first day of sobriety and she wasn't quite ready to quit Connecticut just yet.

"You plan on standing down here all day McCullers or what?" The rich sound of Dr Eric Harper's voice pulled Paige out of her reverie. Looking over her shoulder, she found herself looking in to his dazzling green eyes and cocky, self-assured smile, "I didn't think you'd show," Eric smiled, motioning in the direction of one of the elevators.

"You said Thursday so, here I am."

As they entered the elevator, several doctors and nurses pooled in around them, "How's your Unc- "

"Hold the…elevator." _Fuck._ Emily pressed furiously at the elevator button but it was already on the move.

"One bone dry cappuccino, extra shot for you"

Turning to face the owner of the annoyingly cheerful sign-song voice, Emily managed to summon a somewhat warm smile, "thanks Kevin."

"No problem Dr Fields"

Emily took the coffee and went back to furiously tapping the elevator button.

"OK Em, I know it's been a while but the way you're going at that button..." Hanna smirked suggestively as she sidled up to Emily, her comment met with a thoroughly un-amused glare from her friend and a furiously scarlet turning Kevin.

"Oh my god, kidding. What's with you?"

"Nothing I-"

"Not you Karl, her. Nobody cares about you unless you're contagious or dying…You're not, are you?"

"Me? Nnnno, I'm-"

"Boring me – go away…Go!"

Hanna removed the coffee from Kevin's hands as he scurried across the atrium to the stairwell – apparently he was taking the long, long way round to the surgical floor.

"You know his name's Kevin, right?"

"I do. But you also know how much I love to mess with the interns. They're like babies, only more helpless and annoying. So, what gives?"

"Aside from the fact I'm now 15 minutes to my department meeting? I'm supposed to be presenting a treatment plan with Williamson at ten to the mother of a 12 year old boy who has lung cancer metastatic to his brain; Aria has her first physio session today, and oh yes, you've pulled a Harper on my best intern. Apart from that, I'm fine. You?"

Hanna looked at Emily with a sympathetic smile and wrapped her arm around her shoulders as the elevator doors pinged open and they stepped inside, _"_ alright, I'm sorry. Tell me what can I do to restore Kevin's dignity and bring balance to your day?" Before Emily could get a word in Hanna linked her arm and pulled her in close so she could whisper without the rest of the occupants hearing, "Speaking of Harper, did you see the hot biker chick he got the elevator with just now?"

Emily rolled her eyes – she already knew where this was going, "I did not."

"I've got a feeling about that one Em-."

"Hanna, we both know your gaydar about as reliable as a support bra with no wires"

"All I'm saying is if it looks like duck, quacks like a duck, it's freakin' duck."

The elevator doors opened on to a busy surgical floor - a very sweaty Kevin and four other interns waiting eagerly for Emily, "OK Han, I can't even tell you how many things are wrong with that sentence."

"Because you know I'm right, that's why."

"Hardly ever," Emily pulled a 180 in heels and stuck her tongue playfully between her teeth in Hanna's direction before she turned and waved, "I'll see you in Aria's room at 1."

Hanna's answer was interrupted by a loud noise erupting from down the corridor. Turning the corner, Hanna was met with a scene of several interns trying frantically to pick up on the supply carts that they'd lost control of, "oh HELL NO!"

* * *

Paige's love for hospitals hadn't improved in the last 5 days. There wasn't any one reason why – more an amalgamation of things that in her experience all led to the same conclusion: patient goes in, patient doesn't come out...if they had been lucky enough to make it that far in the first place. It always came in waves, never ending waves of pain and loss. Paige could still hear the screams; still feel the grip tightening on her hand of the marines, and the civilians…and the children that had died in her arms. Loss was a part of her life, an unbearable part.

Sarah must've sensed it during her examination. She'd seen the scars, had guessed why they were there. She'd tried to scratch the surface of what made Lance Corporal Paige McCullers so deathly brave…maybe that's why she hadn't come back that night. The answers were too hard, too bleak, and too inexplicable. How do you quantify loss when loss is all you've ever known?

There were people who wore it like a badge; people who had seen too much, who had felt it too keenly, and who didn't know how to live without it. And there were those like Sarah who saw it and tried, in their own way, to be "supportive" and ask questions to show they weren't afraid of the darkness. The _'I'm in this for the long haul'_ kind of questions that only served to annoy Paige to no end. She didn't need someone to try and relate to her loss or ease the pain…she didn't need saving. Pain was her burden, a burden she accepted gladly because she had seen the other side. She had lived where so many others had died. She didn't have the luxury of feeling angry or resentful, and most days if anyone were to ask her she felt truly grateful to be alive – to be able to breathe in and out all day long - to walk, to run, to laugh and play, to kiss, to love, to fuck…to get on her motorcycle, ride clear across country or set sail and chase the horizon. Yes, she had every opportunity to feel and experience pleasure, and she had every intention of doing just that.

"...three dates, no sex, just talking. Do you know how much you can learn about a person when you remain upright?"

"Wow, you must have a lot of really boring sex," Paige teased at Eric's obvious dilemma, "who are we talking about?"

"Rachel in Ortho."

"Ahhh, what happened to Sarah in Trauma?" Paige asked pointedly right before Eric pulled the last stitch from her hairline, "ow!"

Eric looked down at Paige and threw his instrument down on the tray, "you agreed not to mention that again."

"Well you should've thought of that before provoking the locals in my Uncle's bar…I mean, Providence is a hell of a long way to go for a booty call. Or was it a non-booty call? We are still talking about Rachel, right?"

"Whatever pent up G.I. Jane fantasies you exercised that night, that's on you McCullers. I can handle myself. And as for the booty calls, what was that yoga instructor's name again? Moonbeam?"

"It was Meadow. And hey, I'm not the one who kept shouting, 'not the face, not the face.' Although, girls do love a cool scar you know." Paige winked playfully as she hopped down from the bed. Caught by a sudden wave of dizziness she stumbled backwards and reached for the bed.

"Whoa, easy…here, sit down a minute."

"Eric, I'm fine," Paige straightened and reached up with the corner of her jumper to dab at the beads of sweat on her forehead.

"OK, so humour me and sit your ass down a second."

Facing off with someone equally as stubborn as you has its limits, "alright, Jesus. Are you always this bossy?"

"Depends on who's askin.' Alright, look in to the light for me. Look up. Look down. Any headaches?"

"Some."

"Paige?"

Frustrated, Paige shook her head as she tried to think of a moment when the headaches hadn't been there over the past 5 days, "Alright, they've been constant."

"How long?"

"Since the accident."

"And you didn't think to say anything? Any neck pain or nausea? Memory loss?"

"Haven't been able to forget you yet. And no."

"Blurred vision? Tiredness?"

"Actually, yeah I've slept a lot – I don't normally sleep that well but…what?"

Eric reached for his cell phone swiping the scream and tapping twice before bringing it to his ear, "Yeah Williamson? Oh, well where is he? When he's finished with Dr Fields you tell him that Dr Harper needs a consult…no, we'll come to you." Eric shut off his phone and looked disapprovingly at Paige

"Eric, it's really not necessary I…"

Before she knew what was happening Eric had disappeared from the room only to return seconds later with a wheelchair.

"Oh no, you have got to be kidding me. There's no way I'm getting in that."

Eric looked at Paige and then down at the wheelchair. Putting the breaks in place he moved around and shanghaied her off the edge of the bed and stuffed her into the wheelchair, trapping her in the seat with his hands on the arm rests, "this isn't a negotiation. I am the doctor, you are the patient. You're getting a neuro consult and a CT, and not necessarily in that order."

Paige's head was throbbing and Eric's interference was insistent. It would've had been almost sweet had he not just manhandled her into a wheelchair.

"Fine."

"Great, I'll drive."

* * *

Emily and Williamson were half way around the corner and heading towards Aria's room when an intern came bounding towards them, waving her hands frantically in the air, "Dr Williamson…" she huffed, completely out of breath, "Dr Harper, he's…coming down with a patient…needs a consult."

Emily met Williamson's inquisitive, _'what has Harper done now'_ stare with a, _'I don't know and I don't wanna know'_ look. When it came to Harper, everyone knew the possibilities were endless – he was a great doctor, a God of a surgeon – but he only ever asked for the Chief of a department when he had done something he shouldn't have, usually with a nurse or an attending. He knew better to go near the interns – they were bottom of the surgical food chain and not worth his time and energy.

He looked at the intern for a long moment, hoping that once she'd had her fill of the dramatics he could glean some useful information from her, but the intern waited, looking expectantly for one of them to confirm that they'd heard her. Emily held her hands up to her face to stifle a laugh as Williamson took a step towards the intern, "And?"

"Sir?"

Raking his hand across his face and fighting to keep his voice even, Williamson took a shallow, calming breath, "Is there anything else? Anything remotely useful, like patient history - a chart perhaps?"

Dumbfounded and mouth agape the intern shook her head, "Dr Harper just said he was bringing her to you."

"Ahh, so the patient is a woman. Figures" Dr Williamson turned back to Emily who was still trying desperately to keep from laughing, "right, lead the way. Dr Fields I shall be with you and Miss Montgomery momentarily. Is the fiancé here?"

"Ezra's on his way."

"Right, Ezra. Excellent. Well, I would love to tell you this won't take long but…" Dr Williamson let his sentence drift off as he backed his way down the corridor behind the retreating intern.

Ezra had cried off and on in the hours they had waited for Aria to come round; switching between pacing up and down the small confines of her room to holding her so tightly against him that Emily had been afraid he would break her. He was still trying to protect her – as if trying to make up for not being there or getting to her sooner. As if somehow all of this had been his fault. Disorientated, Aria's immediate thought on waking had been that of their baby – her hands shaking nervously as they'd instinctively gone to her belly. Placing his hands over hers, Eza's throaty, familiar voice had reassured her that the baby was fine, that they both were fine.

Toby had faired no better – he had looked like a man who had been wretched from his own body as he watched the minutes crawl towards the time when Spencer would wake up. He knew she was strong and that she would pull through. Whatever came next, they would face it together. Words of comfort fell on deaf ears – he hadn't known what to say to Emily, or Hanna, or to any of the other doctors and nurses that had flitted in and out of the room. He had remained silent, watched and waited for that first flick of her hand that told him more than any words could say.

The prognosis had hit both girls like a freight train. Although both were beyond grateful to be alive, as they days crept on the realisation that they had months of rehabilitation and therapy ahead of them felt impossible to comprehend. With Aria's surgery there came the risk of long-lasting problems and the possibility that the haematoma could come back. Ezra and Aria had gripped each other's hands fiercely as Williamson had talked about some of the possible side effects: changes to her mood, difficulty concentrating and problems with her memory and speech, seizures, weakness in her limbs...it was all so overwhelming for the both of them and with a baby on the way, the usual worries and fears that all first time parents go through were only amplified by the fact that no one, at this point, knew how the healing process would play out.

Toby had turned green as he and Spencer had listened keenly as Dr Rachel Halsey in ortho talked them through Spencer's surgery: how she'd reduced the break in Spencer's right tibia and used a combination of metal wires, pins, and screws to securely fix her bones back in place. When Spencer came to the first thing she saw was the external fixation of her right leg – heavily casted and hanging in a sling from above the bed. The pain in her chest was excruciating and it had torn Emily apart to walk Spencer through her surgery – leaving out some of the more stomach churning details like having to spread Spencer's ribs apart; having to reach in to her chest with her own hand to pump Spencer's heart for her when she'd coded during surgery. There was the possibility of post-op infection, fevers, chest pains; shortness of breath…and that was without all the other complications that came with the invasive surgery on her chest and leg.

There had been a heavy silence in both rooms that day. The remedy would leave scars to be sure, but Emily and Hanna both knew that their friends were now facing more than just physical challenges, which in themselves were quite profound, but mental and emotional ones that, given enough time, would prove to be the biggest challenge of all. Surgery has the ability to mend what is broken but there is no guarantee that things will ever be as they were. It is like being reborn, only to come back as someone slightly different. All they could do now was wait and watch, and support their friends with whatever came next.

"McCullers, you need to lay still."

Eric's voice boomed through the microphone in the CT scanner. Paige hated confined spaces. She could hear her blood pulsing in her ears like the blades of a helicopter. Her breath was coming harder and faster, _don't freak out….keep calm….you got this._ She repeated the mantra over and over again in the vain hope it would make a difference.

"Paige? Paige, listen to me. You're OK. There's nothing bad going to happen to you in there. I know you're scared-"

"I'm not scared," Paige retaliated as she screwed her eye lids shut and released the breath she had been holding.

"Sure you're not…just like I wasn't afraid in that bar in Providence," Eric laughed and turned to acknowledge Williamson as he walked in to the imaging booth.

"You could've handled yourself."

"Yeah but it doesn't hurt to keep a US Marine around just in case."

Paige could feel herself begin to relax at Eric's gentle teasing. Taking slow, even breaths, she could feel her heart rate begin to drop and the feeling return to her hands.

"That's it McCullers, just breathe. All right, Dr Williamson is here now to take a look at that pretty little head of yours so we're gonna need you to lay completely still, OK?"

"OK."

Eric muted the intercom and turned to Williamson, 'Thank you for coming down."

Surprised by Harper's seriousness, the witty retort he'd planned to deliver after the stern dressing down quickly dissipated and he joined Eric in front of the monitors, "what do we have?"

"Paige McCullers, 29 yrs old. Took a blow to the head 5 days ago at the crash site on I-95. Treated in the ER by Dr Lawson and myself there appeared to be no cognitive difficulties. Patient returned today to have the stitches removed from the laceration above her right temple and during the examination she disclosed that she'd been suffering from headaches since being discharged."

Williamson looked over Paige's chart and leaned forward as the first images came up on the monitor, "I-95? Was she involved in the crash?"

"No, Paige administered treatment and helped rescue the 3 survivors. One of whom I believe is you patient, Daniel."

Dr Daniel Williamson looked at the monitor and then back turned back to Eric when realisation hit, "Aria Montgomery?"

Eric nodded proudly.

"That's her? Jesus, we've had reporters camped out in the atrium and hounding administration looking for her. Does she know?"

"Let's just say I think she knew what she was doing when she disappeared for 5 days. And yeah, she is one of a kind."

Scrutinising the images on the screen, it didn't take long for Williamson to reach a diagnosis, "Mild edema. You see the swelling…There's nothing in her chart about pain medication. What have you administered so far?"

Eric shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "She um, she didn't want any."

Williamson looked back at Eric confused, "That's very admirable but…something I should know? Something that's not in her notes."

"Why don't we let the patient do the talking."

"Because I'm asking you Eric, not her. She's the patient - you're the doctor. You asked me for a consult, I'm here, taking time away from my patients so I'll ask again, why hasn't she received any pain management?"

Eric swiveled uncomfortably in his chair. He didn't know why he was having such difficulty answering Williamson. Maybe it was because the answer wasn't as simple as it would sound; maybe it was because the two days he spent with Paige up in Providence had made him extremely protective of the girl in the next room – she'd had his back, now he needed to have hers. The things they'd shared with one another went far beyond the norm of two acquaintances, which is what they had been just three days ago. Now, what he had with the girl in the and next room surpassed any friendship he had ever been lucky enough to experience. He knew where the lines were drawn and now he was stuck in a moral quandary. _Do no harm._ He was split down the middle.

"I asked you a question-"

"She's an addict! Alright Daniel, Paige is an addict. " Eric's hands were balled in to fists, the room suddenly feeling a lot smaller to him.

Taken aback by Eric's obvious struggle, he looked between the woman lying in the tube next door and the loyal companion who was now fighting her corner next to him, "Drugs?"

"Alcohol. She's been clean 10 years but…she doesn't want to run the risk of flipping that switch."

Williamson nodded, "I see. Let's get her out of there and talk about the alternatives. I'd like to admit her for observation."

Eric laughed and rested his head in his hands, "Oh, she won't like that."

"I bet she won't. Marine huh, I can only imagine what she's been through."

"No, you can't."

When the surface she was lying on shifted, Paige could once again make out the smug face of Eric Harper. She had no idea how this man had grown on her so much after the last few days but she also couldn't deny the how at ease she felt by being in his company. That had been the longest 15 minutes of her life - it was like being in a box 5 times to small. Paige had been in confined spaces before, never again, "how'd I do?"

Eric gave her one of his mega watt smiles as Williamson entered the room, "you did great. Paige this is Dr Williamson, he's our Head of Neuro and will be consulting on your case."

"Miss McCullers it's an honour to meet you."

Paige took Williamson's hand but reserved the confused expression for Eric, "my case? What case?"

"Paige it would appear that you suffered a mild TBI, that's-"

"I know what a TBI is."

"Right. Dr Harper said you treated others at the scene of the crash. How did you know how do that?"

Paige looked disapprovingly from Williamson to Eric, "He did, did he? What else did Dr Harper share with you?"

The air grew thick as Paige waited for a reply, her eyes never leaving Eric's as he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Looking to cut the tension, Williamson continued, "only that you're a very brave woman who selflessly tended to others at the scene of a major incident with no thought to her own safety, which brings us here to today and now. Paige, can I call you Paige?"

 _Silence._

"Alright then. The CT showed us that you have edema, or swelling of the brain. Now in milder cases such as yours this tends to resolve itself on its own, without treatment, in a few days. But Dr Harper told me you've been suffering from acute headaches and tiredness since the night of the accident. Have taken anything for this? Any pain relief?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Paige's eyes once again looked to Eric, whom had turned away from them as was engaging with one of the interns like they were suddenly the most interesing person on the planet. _He hates interns!_ "I'm sure Dr Harper has shared with you, why not."

"Listen Paige, no one is here to judge you. What you did was incredibly brave and there are 3 patients in this hospital who are alive today because of what you did. You didn't just save 3 people - that's 3 families that are still together today because you got to them first. So whatever happened in your past, that's nobody's business but your own. You don't want pain relief, that's fine, I'll talk you through the alternatives. What I'm not prepared to do is discharge you from this hospital with an untreated head injury. You are my patient now and as such you will be admitted for the next 24 hrs for treatment and observation. Now, is there anyone you'd like for us to call for you?"

"As I've not lost the ability to speak or use my fingers I'm guessing I'm alright to make a phone call." Paige reached in to her pocket and took out her cell phone. _And today started off so well._ "Hey Garrett, I need another favour…"

* * *

"OK Toby that is like, the 2nd packet of cookies you have eaten today. Will you please go home and make some proper food." Spencer pleaded with her husband, who was currently sat covered in crumbs in the chair beside her bed, engrossed in this weeks' episode of The Deadliest Catch.

Smiling over at her with a mouthful of double chocolate chip he gave her one of his, _'I'm not going anywhere'_ looks before turning back to the TV.

"Alright, well if you won't go home to eat maybe you could think about showering. You're smelling pretty damn ripe over there mister and I know I did the laundry before the shit hit the fan so you've got no excuse."

Toby got up off the chair and leaned over Spencer, rubbing his nose playfully against hers, "I'm not ready to leave you just yet," trailing his lips across her jaw, he nipped playfully at her skin before placing the lightest of kisses over her pulse point.

"That's very sweet baby but if you are not at home and in the shower in the next 30 minutes I'll be filing the divorce papers from here."

"Damn Hastings, even in a hospital bed with one leg in a sling you're still trying to get the other one over. My kind of woman."

"Hanna..." Toby growled in response and gave Spencer a pointed look as he moved off of his wife and back towards the chair covered in cookie crumbs as Hanna, Emily and Dr Halsey entered the room followed by a team of interns.

"What? Don't look at me – you know she has no filter."

"Err, hello, I'm right here."

"We know." The three friends echoed in unison.

Emily turned to one of her interns, "Melissa, would you care to present?"

"Yes, thank you Dr Fields. Spencer Cavanaugh post-op day 5…"

Hanna's pager went off and interrupted the intern's flow, all eyes turning to her as moaned and roller her eyes, "sorry…keep going, I'll be right back."

Exiting Spencer's room she made her way to the elevator only to be intercepted by Dr Harper, "Nurse Rivers."

"That's Chief Nurse Rivers to you Harper. What's with the 911?"

Rounding on him and folding her arms defiantly in front of herself, Hanna waited for an explanation as to why she had been pulled from rounds with Emily and her interns.

"I need a favour-"

"Oh God, what have you done now?"

"Nothing why, why does everyone keep saying that to me today?"

"Err, I don't know, because it's you! And I don't think it's just today…Anyway, I'm in the middle of rounds so unless someone is dying…"

Hanna drifted off as Eric looked past her to make sure no one was in earshot.

"Did you botch up some poor ladies boobs because I don't think I have it in me today to deliver that news."

Taking her upper arm he moved them across the corridor and in to an on-call room.

"OK, there is no way in hell this is happening."

"Would you shut your pie hole for two seconds and let me speak. God! I haven't killed anyone and no, I haven't botched some poor ladies boobs – I don't botch boobs. I have to tell you something and you have to promise me you're going to react calmly."

Hanna turned her back to Eric and walked the eight feet across the on call room and sat at the edge of one of the beds. Crossing her legs, she looked up and motioned for him to continue.

Taking a deep breath Eric leant back against the door, seeking the support he needed to get out what he was about to say, "I have a patient that Williamson is admitting for observation. She has a mild TBI and will be up on this ward in the next ten minutes. She doesn't want anyone to know that she's here so I need you to talk to your nurses and the interns and make sure that her privacy is respected."

Hanna shook her head in an attempt to gather her thoughts and rose up off the bed, laughing lightly, "that's it? That's what you pulled me in here for?"

"There's more….when you see her name you'll want – hell, everyone will want to rush in there and make a fuss and she…she just won't want that. So I'm asking you, Hanna, do me this one favour."

Hanna narrowed her eyes, "OK Eric, did you botch Halle Berry's boobs? Because you know how I feel about Halle Berry's boobs."

"It's not Halle Berry boobs. For fucks sake, this is not about boobs."

"For once," Hanna uttered under her breath

"The patient's name Paige. Paige McCullers."

Eric waited a beat for that name to sink in. It took a few seconds but slowly Hanna's face lit up and her eyes flashed in recognition, "Paige? As in Spencer's Paige?"

"How many other women in the New London area do you know called Paige? Hell, she's the only one I've met…ever"

"Coming from you that's saying a lot. Fuck! I can't believe it. I have to-"

Eric blocked the door as Hanna went for the handle,"No! See, this is what I didn't want to happen. You can't go all Hanna Marin on her right now."

"For the ten MILLIONTH time, it's Rivers and why not? Do you understand what this would mean to everyone? How much it would mean to Spencer and Aria to get to talk to her…how much it would mean to Toby and Ezra to be able to shake her hand and say thank you? Not to mention how much time and energy Caleb has put in to finding her…" Hanna was pacing wildly in front of Eric making erratic hand gestures as she went on and on as if Paige was the second coming of Jesus Christ.

"OK stop! Listen…I'm gonna go get Paige and put in her 303 down the hall. You are going to go and put Jane Doe or Halle Berry or whatever you like for the next 24hrs on the board so the woman can be treated in peace. Not a word to Aria, or Emily…or Spencer….Especially not Ezra."

Eric turned and went to leave but a Hanna's hand had pushed the door close before he'd got it half way open, "what happened? Is she OK? And why 'especially not Ezra?'"

Eric sighed and turned to face Hanna, both with their arms crossed, leaning against the door for support, "Paige came in last week, maybe an hour or so behind Spencer and Aria. You and Emily were already in surgery by then. Sar… Dr Lawson asked for a consult in the ER and that's where I met Paige. She wanted staples and glue – can you believe that? Who wants staples and glue?"

"Eric!"

"Right, sorry. She had a fairly deep laceration above her right temple protruding back in to her hairline, and aside from a few bruised ribs she seemed fine."

"How did she get hurt? Was she involved in the crash?"

Eric shuffled uncomfortably on the spot, "I'm not sure how much of this I should share with you."

"Considering you dragged me in to an on call room, I'd recommend everything!"

"…You know that Spencer's car was flipped and pinned by the tanker?"

"How could I forget," Hanna shivered at the memory and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

"Paige had climb over the barrier and scale the damn car in order to get to Spencer and Aria, but when she reached the top she lost her footing and slipped, smacked her head off the pavement and her ribs took the brunt of the impact with the barrier."

Hanna hissed between her teeth as Eric pushed on.

"She's been suffering with headaches and tiredness since the accident. We've run a CT – mild edema - Williamson wants to admit her for observation over the next 24hrs and administer IV fluids and O2 therapy."

"Is there anyone we can call for her? Family?"

Eric shook his head, "no. She has an Uncle but…look, she's not a fan of hospitals, she's not big on attention – and I get it, alright. I am right where you are: if people knew she was here – after everything she did to save Spencer and Aria and…that other guy…people should wanna shake her hand and throw her the party of the century. But that's not Paige. She just wants a bit of peace. 24hrs Rivers, we can at least give her that."

Hanna eyed him skeptically, "How do you know so much about her? You're not sleeping with her are you Eric?"

"I have really got to do something about this man whore reputation."

"How many times have we been over this – don't sleep with your co-workers, you ruin them. But that's still not answer."

"What?"

"Are. You. Sleeping. With. Her?"

"Jesus, no. For one she's a patient."

"Never stopped you before-"

"And two she's…she...she likes boobs too."

Hanna stood back excitedly, "Oh My God – the hottie you were with the atrium this morning – that was Paige, wasn't it? I knew it! What else?"

"What do you mean, what else?"

"You said, and I quote, _'especially not Ezra.'_ So, what aren't you telling me?"


End file.
